Stupid
by Hermonthis
Summary: Zechs/Noin - "She didn’t know where she was headed, she didn’t know where he’d get off, and it just added to the swell of uncertainties that lingered within. He never really left." Written back in 2004, reposted.


Inspired by Sarah McLachlan's song, "Stupid"

Stupid

_… open your eyes, because no one will catch you when you fall …_

* * *

"She doesn't get it."

Multiple pairs of eyes watched her in the locker room as she stuffed her gym clothing into a white duffel bag and hung it over her shoulder, ready to call it a workday and an early night. She barely concentrates on the laces of her shoes as she ties them together in fluid motion. The practice had become routine to her, and her fingers worked with automated movement.

"She really doesn't get it."

Looking casual, the three gathered up the rest of their belongings and left the building together, waving farewell to each other. She took the north end street and hummed to herself while walking to her parked car.

"That all she's doing is destroying herself in the end, an end that's coming much sooner than she thinks."

There was no need to say her name, for they all knew the drill. It was all a sickening game of cat and mouse and they all wanted it to end, even if it would break her spirit. Because, truth be told, for her to keep on pretending like this… It'd kill her instead.

But like her predecessors, they were all blind to it, to everything and nothing. They think that all will be fine in the end that the months, perhaps years of trials and tribulations, will pay off in one glorious day. They shall walk off together to the sunset hand-in-hand, thanking the stars and the gods above for blessing them with this gift that they know will last forever.

Then they'd all look at each other without words and nod in confidentiality.

Bullshit.

This thing was a complete waste of time that would be better spent on daytime television instead of the workplace, where those closest to her would know. Even if they weren't sure why _that_ was her favourite color or why she decided to christen her car _that_ name or why she kept her old Lieutenant uniform, they knew her.

"It's just so sad to see her," a softened voice whispered… and it was.

Pathetic to see grown women act this way, and it see something so destructive progress to worse proportions every day was … indescribable. It was irritating, annoying, useless, but also pitying. Sometimes they'd catch her eyes out of focus or she would be daydreaming, almost whispering to herself. It was only them who could see her façade and for the longest time, try to shrug it off as if it was nothing although they understood that this thing held her life in its hands. One of them muttered that she was a fool to put so much faith in something so intangible. Another argued that because of her loyalty, it showed her strength to continue hoping.

Or deteriorate and melt away into the sand.

She needed someone to make her smile, someone she could rely upon and not cause her to cry, although she wasn't aware that she did at night. Was she just looking for her opposite, seeking out the long silver hair to contrast with her shorn locks as dark as evening, or was there really something she could see behind that mask? Was it because she needed a hero to look up to, someone to idolize and put upon a pedestal just like a Greek god, or did she wish to be the one to help him up when he fell under the heat of the burning sun?

They couldn't tell for she spoke too kindly.

But she knows how it can hurt since she has heard all of their words and read all of their faces. It's hard to live and forget — that much they should be able to identify with. These people who constantly watched her grasped the full meaning of her words. They had all suffered in one way or another. How could they find the nerve to criticize her?

It wasn't that she was desperate. She had lived on after what had happened, and that was a start. Her diet didn't change, not by that much anyways. She argued that her insignificant weight loss was due to her workouts with the other girls, it was nothing really. As for her tired eyes, she wasn't suffering from insomnia, it was just for late nights at work. For heaven's sakes, she felt like a toddler being babysat with all these suggestions and implications of trying to forget this past of hers.

To soothe the trepidation over her, she went out on dates with other men, most of them whom she met from outside of work. Some weren't that bad, really, they made her smile and made her feel like a woman again... although none of them ever went past the first evening. For when they drove her home and leaned in for the kiss, she turned her head away and left them in the cold and perfectly aware of what she was doing. The whole dating situation made her feel cheap, that she should go out and gets the hopes of men up, but she had been broken before.

"That was not about to happen again," she had told them.

The gray keys in her palm dug into her skin as she passed another streetlamp, their etchings printing themselves on coiled fingers. Walking into the parkade, her legs directed her towards the usual parking spot when they halted altogether. There he was, standing under the fluorescent lighting with his hands crossed across his chest.

He spoke her name quietly and it echoed throughout the lot, bounding off the walls repeatedly until the sound became more distant and faint, fading off into silence save for her quickened breathing.

"She really was a fool."

Trying to calm her nerves down, her feet established their pace again if not more swift this time, and she stood on the driver's side with the right hand hovering just above the door handle. He greeted her in friendly tones, using her nickname to address her, his lips moving ever so slightly with a pale glow around his head. They exchanged words for a while longer before she tired of standing and got inside the car, wishing him goodbye. He opened the passenger's side and got in beside her, neglecting to touch the seat belt or the lock for that matter. The inside lights came on and she winced from it, not daring to turn her head and look at his face.

Her hands strayed to the keyhole before coming to rest on the wheel. Staring forward, she recalled what had happened last time he had come to her. Nobody knew of them, they all believed that she was mourning for a man who no longer existed when he frequently visited her, sweeping in and out of her life like the rain.

The last time he had come, she was browsing through a line of clothing at a nearby mall. They had talked as she continued her search for a new blouse. They sat down together at the back of the shop as she waited for an open stall to try how the clothes fit. But he wouldn't go away. He never did.

As the memories replayed in her mind and the lights were shut out, she knew that she was trapped, just like they had said. This wasn't an epiphany of any sort because it was just a reminder of the burden that she had borne upon herself week after week. Her throat felt constricted and she swallowed the dry, hot air. She coughed to erase the smothering feeling from the leather chairs and the closeness of everything around her.

A cool hand came up to touch her neck and she jolted in her seat, turning to her right to see… her posture stiffened and his hand withdrew. She bent her head and released her grip on the steering wheel, ready to start the engine and drive off to run away from both their pasts. Just one turn of the key and she could be free: he would get out of the car as she would roll down the windows and drive off.

Situation dealt with and forgotten.

That's how her thoughts always ran, but they never did formulate into reality.

The keys were quietly placed on the dashboard as so not to disturb the hushed murmur of the night. His hand sought out hers again and she found that it was warm to the touch. He stroked her palm caressingly with the tips of his fingers that sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing. Holding her wrists delicately, he guided her in the dark so that she straddled him in the passenger's seat, leaning forward in such a way that accentuated all the curves in her body. The weight of his eyes on her made her wither inside, but the scary thing was, she also craved it.

With deft fingers he removed her jacket and rubbed her freezing arms with his hands. He whispered her name and put a hand to her cheek, wishing her to press her face to it so that he may know what it was like to touch her again.

Unable to deny him any longer, she bent down and engaged him in a quick kiss that became a much longer one when he returned the sensation, overlooking the need to breathe and to hear him moan in need, instead. This primal instinct to be with him took control of her senses and she knew that this moment would become another regret. His hands started to wander from her arms, down her breasts, and to her waist where he played with the edge of her jeans. She tugged at his collar before he removed his own jacket to reveal the white button-up shirt he wore underneath. In a matter of seconds it was fully open and she splayed her fingers over his bare chest.

He was everywhere. His eyes, his hands, his lips touching, stroking, caressing her until her cheeks were flushed with more than just the air's temperature. He smoothed the hair from her forehead as their bodies were pressed together in the reclined seat, their actions speaking more loudly than words. Talk between them was unnecessary, despite what everybody else said, they just understood each other in the way that he held her hand and she's run her fingers through his long hair.

Laying clothed beside him, she buried her face into his shoulder and let his arms wrap around her body possessively. She tried to think of what _he_ might be thinking right now, and their gazes fell upon each other at the exact same time.

His eyes then turned towards her neckline, and he pulled the strap of her tank top back onto her shoulder before turning back to look upon her face. She bit her lip and gave the tiniest hint of a smile when he traced the outline of her lips.

It still hurt.

Whenever he was not there, without a goodbye or a wave of farewell before he left for another month or two. As if he had the key to her and he could just walk in and out to his convenience. There were still many things about their relationship that had not been resolved, much less discussed about. The questions had not been asked so the answers were not given, but there was always the risk of what would happen…

If he couldn't answer at all.

So she didn't.

Just like the others before her, they all knew what it was like to watch yourself deteriorate when he was absent. Knew what it was like to walk through your door and suddenly find a guest sitting at your patio table, reading the latest magazine that you had picked up yesterday morning. But during the times that he was here, you'd bloom like a flower and your face would get all flushed again. You'd live for the moment.

Climbing back into the driver's seat, Noin threw their jackets into the back seats as she waited for him to put on his seat belt. Starting the engine, she took one last look at the empty parking lot before pulling out and onto the main roads, never once looking back.

She didn't know where she was headed, she didn't know where he'd get off, and it just added to the swell of uncertainties that lingered within.

He never really left.


End file.
